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ulky Sue 



by 

Caroline Wise 

and 

Gaily Ryland 



Sulky Sue 



Sulky Sue 



By Caroline Wise 

and CALLY RyLAND 



Richmond, Virginia 



.^^ 






COPYRIGHT, 1921 



SEP 29 1921 

§)CI,A627016 



Sulky Sue 



How Sulky Sue Saved the Soldiers 

SHE name Sulky Sue mos' eve'y since she 
was bawn," her grandmother had to 
explain whenever Sue's name was men- 
tioned. **Nor'm, 'taint bekase she's mean an' 
ornary. Sue's just as peart as anybody, but 
look like she's always studyin' 'bout somep'n, 
so you gotter ax her a queshton three, fo' times 
befo' she hear you, en den it's jes like pullin' 
a eye-toof to git de answer outer Sue. Dats 
hoccum de chillun got in de habit of callin' her 
'Sulky Sue.' " 

Ever since the first whisper went around 
that the place adjoining Temple's Farm, where 
Sue lived, was to be taken over by the gov- 
ernment and one of the biggest cantonments 
in the country was to be established there, 
Sue had been agog with interest. She pestered 
the surveyors to death hanging around with a 
clean, sweet-smelling cedar bucket full of 



spring water and a spick and span yellow 
gourd for them to dip it up with. They 
thought, of course, she was hinting" for 'a 
tip, and one of them was very plainly surprised 
when Sue picked up the dime he threw her and 
handed it back to him with a **I don't want 
your money. Mister." 

"What the devil do you want then !" he 
shouted, and burst into laughter at the look of 
terror that made Sue's black eyes roll around 
in her head like marbles as she picked up her 
bucket and scattered the dust of the road from 
her flying feet. 

Every hour of the day she could escape 
from the double tutelage of her school and her 
grandmother Sue spent near enough to the 
camp to watch every phase of its growth, and 
every fresh quota of men as they arrived. She 
trudged miles on its outskirts, never daring to 
question one of its occupants, but with a hun- 
dred questions in her heart. And one day when 
her grandmother heard that her '*01e 
Marster's" son was the officer in command of 
the whole medical section, *'with a house all 
to hissef and sojers salutin' all round him," 



not only Sue but Aunt Jemimy herself rose at 
the news with a shout of welcome. Now that 
they had ''white folks" in camp, and even 
"boss of de whole show," Aunt Jemimy was 
ready to gather the whole North to her ample 
bosom and sing her nunc dimittis. However, 
having a practical mind, she made so bold as 
to ask "young Marse Jo" for the privilege of 
doing his washing instead, and sent him linen 
that put the first snowflake of winter to the 
blush. 

Sue always managed to be on hand when 
the last handkerchief was laid on top of the 
basket and a fresh cover tucked neatly over 
it, so that she might be allowed to act as hon- 
orary escort to those clothes. Brief were the 
glimpses she had of "young Marse Jo," but he 
seemed to her a marvelous being in his khaki 
uniform, and even though the hair under his 
cap was sprinkled with grey Sue's loyalty pro- 
nounced him, as her grandmother called him, 
"young Master," and her pride in serving him 
was beyond belief. 

In the soft haze of a late November after- 
noon the small wiry figure of Sulky Sue, bal- 



ancing her strap of books on her head, looked 
like the little black ghost of a fiddler crab 
ambling up the road. 

Sue had been kept in. Formerly this was 
a usual occurrence with her, but since the thrill 
of Camp Lee and its activities had possessed 
her soul Sue had always managed to keep out 
of mischief till today when the weather and 
the imp of the perverse proved too strong a com- 
bination for her. 

Indian summer in Virginia is as warm as 
a genuine New England summer, the road 
was long and dusty and Sue was tired and 
sleepy, so measuring the distance to the cross 
roads where she must turn off to reach 
the little patch of ground on which Aunt 
Jemimy's cabin had stood for many years, she 
decided to rest herself and her burden of books 
for a few snoozy moments by the wayside 
before going on. 

She waked a little later to the hum of voices. 
At first she held her breath in sleepy sus- 
pense, and then, little by little, as she grew 
wider awake she heard a man's voice utter a 
string of words which were wholly without 



meaning to her, and another man's voice break 
in quickly with, "For God's sake man, speak 
English." 

''German or English, what does it matter 
here, sir? There is nobody aboud," came in 
guttural acents. 

Sue's heart quaked. A few scrubby pines 
were all that hid her from view, and rolling 
her eyes warily without daring to turn her 
head, she saw, almost within reach of her 
hand, a young officer sitting on the trunk of 
a fallen tree by the wayside, and standing in 
front of him, in a respectful attitude, the new 
overseer at Temple's Farm. 

This was no unusual sight to Sue. Tem- 
ple's Farm, had already furnished the men at 
Camp Lee with many supplies and quite evi- 
dently here was an officer bargaining for more. 
Sue closed her eyes again comfortably, wait- 
ing for the usual reckoning in dollars and 
cents, milk and butter and eggs to be over 
with before she crept out of her sleepy hollow 
and took to the dusty road again. 

The officer's voice cut the silence sharply: 
"You've got the tunnel cleared?" 



"Ja, mein Herr," the overseer began. 

"English ! English !" broke in the officer 
impatiently. "Good Lord, Heinrich, how stupid 
you are ! How often do I have to tell you the 
same thing over. Speak English, American, 
slang, anything but German. You'll queer the 
game before the jack pot is opened. And 
don't be so damned respectful. There's no 
place for that here, in this rotten democracy. 
Cut out the heel clicks, and the bows too. Let 
us get down to brass tacks. Here, take this. 
Look out, man. Handle it more carefully. 
There are only three more packages to bring. 
Now let's hear what progress you have made. 
The tunnel is clear, you say?" 

"By Monday, at latest," answered the over- 
seer. 'T had less trouble than I thought. The 
old chap dug well." 

"What old chap? 1 told you to do the work 
yourself. You haven't called in anybody to 
help you!" The officer's face blazed with 
rage. 

"Bitte, no, sir, no, sir. I have not," the over- 
seer made haste to answer. "I have done the 
work secretly, alone. I meant that old chap 

8 



Temple, whose son owns the farm. It was 
during the Civil War here that he dug this 
tunnel. He was a timid chap. He heard the 
Yankees were coming and he set his slaves to 
work to tunnel to Petersburg. When he found 
that the Yankees had got to Petersburg first 
he stopped work and fled in the other direc- 
tion, but his work was good, albeit so few 
know of it in these days. He dug for us, and 
his tunnel lies under that part of Camp Lee 
which is its heart — the medical supplies, the — " 

"Yes, yes, I know all that," broke in the 
officer, while Sue's blood froze slowly in her 
veins. "What I am chiefly concerned with is, 
where you have placed the rest of the powder 
I brought, and if you have a clear passage for 
the fuse. You shall pay dearly for any mis- 
take you make, Heinrich. I think I can safely 
promise you that. On the other hand, the 
Iron Cross and a fine reward if you succeed. 
The Fatherland is kindest to those who serve 
in such danger in the very teeth of the enemy. 

"In his teeth ! By God ! in his ribs, to blow 
up and pulverize his very heart, as you say. 



"And what you leave undone I shall do. The 
tubes of bacilli arrived this morning, in a good 
jelly cake, sent me by an admiring friend. 
How kind these admiring friends are to the 
poor soldiers! Your fuse is to be touched off 
not later than 9:30 P. M., Thanksgiving eve. 
I, of course, shall obtain leave of absence. I 
shall go to Petersburg for the evening. On 
my way back to Camp . . . horrors ! The 
whole earth shall rock. Legs, arms, blood and 
hair, teeth and eyes shall be blown to the moon 
with all the ether and instruments and surgi- 
cal supplies necessary to put them together 
again. A fine Thanksgivings Day for the 
Fatherland, Heinrich ! A great crater we shall 
make here, greater than Petersburg has ever 
yet boasted. 

"And then ... I shall come." In the 
interest of developing his theme the young of- 
ficer rose to his feet and shook his fist almost 
in the overseer's face. "Yes, I shall come. I 
shall leave others to care for the wounded — 
for there will be a few hundreds who are 
wounded, my good Heinrich, in spite of the 
pulverizing work of the deadliest powder 
known to mankind — and I shall care for those 

10 



who are left hale and well, who have not been 
shattered into little bits. O, I shall be the 
helpful surgeon, the good doctor. I shall have 
coffee brewed for them when they are ex- 
hausted, and into the coffee shall go the con- 
tents of those precious little tubes sent me in 
the jelly roll cake by my good friend. Into 
the coffee, into the food, and into the water 
my gallant army of little germs shall go. And 
so, within a few days the whole of this great 
Camp Lee, this mighty portion of the great 
little army that is to fight our Kaiser shall be 
dead to a man, and — " 

*'Kutchoo-oo-oo !" 

Shivering as with bitter cold, icy with fear, 
trembling in every bone in her body, Sue, 
though a thing of terror, was human. She 
sneezed. 

In an instant the officer's revolver was in his 
hand and the overseer, pale with fright, took 
a step backward and cast a wild look over his 
shoulder. 

''Halt!" cried the officer under his breath, 
and Heinrich's heels came together with a 
dutiful click. 

II ?^ 



"Come out, or I shoot" ! commanded the of- 
ficer, pointing his pistol in three directions at 
once. "Search those bushes, Heinrich. At 
once. Do you hear?" 

As when a hunter, ranging the woods for 
big game, bags an insignificant little hare, so 
Heinrich, stung to action by his officer's com- 
mand, beat the bushes and brought to light a 
small trembling figure whose usually black face 
was ashen with terror, whose teeth chattered 
and whose knees knocked together in sheer 
fright. 

"Stand up there !" shouted the officer, but 
Sue was too far gone to understand what 
was said to her. Down on her trembling 
knees she sank in the dust of the road. 

"Stand up there, I say!" cried the officer 
again, and Heinrich's big hand closed on her 
shoulder and shook and dragged her upright. 

"Now, then, you little black devil, you have 
been spying on me, have you? So. But in 
my country we know that dead children tell 
no tales. Perhaps you do not believe that. 
Very well, we shall give you a chance to prove 

12 



it. One little blackling more or less will not 
count in this part of the world." 

The lieutenant was so visibly relieved at the 
unimportance of the eavesdropper he could 
well afford to be jovial. 

"I shall snip off her ears first, for listening, 
eh, Heinrich? Then, out go her eyes for spy- 
ing on me, and then her tongue for the tales 
she would delight to tell. Have you last words 
to utter with that tongue little blackling? 
Come, come, surely a little negro is never at a 
loss for a word. No? Then, stand off, Hein- 
rich." 

''Forgive me, Herr Lieutenant, she is not 
worth the trouble it might give you," put in 
Heinrich quickly. "This black child, she is 
deaf and dumb. Yes. She lives on the out- 
skirts of Temple's Farm. I have seen her often 
before, and she has no voice. She never 
speaks." 

The officer lowered his revolver. "But I 
take no chances, Heinrich," he said. "What 
if she should not be deaf and dumb." 

"But I can assure you she is, Herr Lieuten- 
ant," answered Heinrich. 

13 



"I see her with an old woman on this farm 
many times a week and never yet does she 
speak, even though the old woman talks much. 
And picture the burial of the body, and the 
old woman's search for the child. They are 
terrible people, these black people, for venge- 
ance, and the old woman is well known in the 
neighborhood. They would come to me, per- 
haps, and — " 

"O, its you, is it?" sneered the officer. Its 
your precious hide you're so careful of, Hein- 
rich. Oh, well, if you are sure the child is 
deaf and dumb its as good as being dead, after 
all. Get along there, you little devil." 

But Sue, whose wits had come back to her 
at the very first hint that she was not to be 
shot to pieces, never moved an inch. Her 
black eyes rolled from officer to hireling and 
back again, but not a sound did she utter. It 
was only when Heinrich's big hand came down 
again heavily on her shoulder and he gave her 
a shove and a wave of the arm, which meant 
delicious freedom even to a deaf and dumb 
person did Sue take advantage of her liberty 
and speed up the dusty road like an arrow 
from a taut bow. 

14 



Once out of sight and hearing, however, 
Sue's speed began to slacken. The horror of 
the whole business came over her. chilling 
her very soul with its plan of remorseless 
cruelty, its well-laid scheme of destruction. 

Her sobbing breath caught in her throat. 
"O Lordy! O Marse Jesus! What is I 
gwineter do now !" she sobbed, giving a fright- 
ened look over her shoulder as she turned in 
at the cross roads and made a bee-line for home 
and her grandmother. 

Aunt Jemimy was sitting comfortably in the 
doorway of her cabin, which her ample form 
filled to overflowing, feeding a quarrelsome 
little family of chickens, when Sue burst in 
upon her, scattering the family right and left. 

"Whafs de matter wid you. Sue?" demanded 
her grandmother severely. But Sue put her 
head down in her grandmother's lap and burst 
into sobs. 

"I knowed somep'n was de matter wid dis 
chile de minute I lay eyes on her," Aunt 
Jeminy said, addressing apparently, all animate 
and inanimate nature. **Now what is you been 

15 



eatin'? You mout jus' as well tell me, kase 
I'se gwineter pick yo' teef an' find out ef'n you 
don't." 

"Spies !" gasped Sue. 

"Spies ! Is you been in dat orchard after 
Mis' Temple's No'thern Spy apples ag'in, Sue. 
when I tole you plain as de nose in yo' face 
to stay outer dar? I declar I'se gotter take a 
switch to you yet." 

"Spies is after young Marse Jo," sobbed Sue 
convulsively. "I heard em an' I seen em, 
gran'mammy." 

Whar has you been sleep, Sue?" demanded 
the old woman. "In school or out on de road- 
side? Git up an' stop dreamin' an' go wash 
dat face an' ban's dis minute. Don' lemme 
have to speak to you but once, Miss. Step 
along." 

Plainly her grandmother was not the one to 
whom Sue could go for help. She didn't be- 
lieve her. She thought it was all a dream, and 
Sue was far too inarticulate to explain the 
seriousness of what she had seen and heard to 
an imperious and impatient old woman who 
refused to listen to her broken phrases. 

i6 



There was no one else to confide in, no one 
who could save young Marse Jo and the whole 
camp from the awful doom and destruction 
that surely awaited them. Yes, there was One. 
Sue had learned a hymn in Sunday School 
which began : 

"What a friend we have in Jesus," 
and ended with the refrain, 

"Take it to the Lord in prayer." 

With a great sigh of relief Sue went down 
on her knees by the side of her bed. 

"Marse Jesus," she prayed, "Dis is a awful 
time dat have come. I dunno what to do 'bout 
it. Fse so small an' weak an' black, but Thou 
are strong and great an' white, an' I axes you 
to help dis li'l nigger to save young Marse Jo 
an' dat great camp f'om de-struction. Gran- 
mammy 'lows, O Marse Jesus, dat ef'n you is 
gwineter help anybody in dis worl' you is 
gwineter help de Hottentots, de Huguenots, 
de Abyssinnians an' de Virginians. Marse 
Jesus, I axes You to let all de res' of dem folks 
alone dis day an' help de Virginians. Amen." 

17 



And Sue rose from her knees calm and com- 
forted. She didn't know how or when '^Marse 
Jesus" was going to help, but with that sublime 
faith of her race she believed and watched for 
a sign. 

The sign came sooner even than she hoped 
or expected. Sue found her grandmother 
fuming next morning. "Here is all dese socks 
what I fuhgot to put in dat barskit yestiddy 
when I tuk Marse Jo's does home," she grum- 
bled, taking the broom out of Sue's hands and 
trying to raise dust from an abnormally clean 
floor. "Look like I aint got no mem'ry dese 
days for nothin'." 

"Gran-mammy, lemme tote em to him," 
begged Sue, eagerly. 

Aunt Jemimy looked dubious. "I don' hoi' 
wid you runnin' round dat Camp by yo'sef," 
she said. "Marse Jo is jus' bleedged to have 
his socks dis mornin' an' I ain't got a minute 
to was'e f'om my work. G'long chile, an' take 
em to him. Skin up dar an' back quick as you 
kin. I don't want no mo' dreamin' by de road- 
side, you heah me." 

i8 



There was no great distance to cover be- 
tween Temple's Farm and the medical head- 
quarters of Camp Lee and Sue covered it at 
a run and brought up before the steps leading 
to "Marse Jo's house" panting like a race 
horse. 

No orderly was in sight, and Sue crept war- 
ily up the steps, her heart beating hard with 
the message she had. Would Marse Jo be- 
lieve her, or would he, as her grandmother 
had done, accuse her of being asleep and 
dreaming? Could she describe to him the 
scene she had witnessed and repeat to him 
the words she had heard? Could she possibly 
convince him of his danger, of the danger of 
his section of the Camp, of the danger implied, 
though scarcely understood by Sue, by the 
"tubes" that had come in the jelly roll cake 
and that would be used for some terrible and 
sinister purpose? 

Never in her whole life had Sue felt so small, 
so weak and insignificant. But her trust was 
in a Higher Power. 

"Marse Jesus," she prayed fervently, "efn 

You is ever gwineter help dem Virginians now 

is de time." 

19 



''What's that?" 

A man's head came into view as Sue climbed 
to the top step. 

"What's that?" 

''It's me, sir." 

"Who's me? Come up here. Let's get a 
look at you." 

"I'se done brought de socks whar gran'- 
mammy forgot, Marse Jo." 

"Good. Just put them on the bench there." 

Major Corbin put his cigar in his mouth 
again and proceeded to take up the train of 
thought Sue had interrupted. 

Sue waited patiently. "Marse Jo," she said 
timidly, "Won't you please, sir, lis'n to me. 
I'se got somep'n to tell you." 

"Something to tell me?" Major Corbin 
looked with amusement at the small wiry fig- 
ure with its thin legs, its black eyes that rolled 
like marbles, its "wrapped" hair and spotlessly 
clean apron. 

"What is it? You want your wash-m.oney, 
or a nickel for chewing gum?" 

20 



"Naw, sir, taint none of dem things, Marse 
Jo. 'Tis 'bout Camp Lee an' de spies." 

Major Corbin sat up straight in his chair 
and laid his cigar on the railing. ''Camp Lee 
and the spies," he repeated slowly. ''What 
about Camp Lee and the spies?" 

And little by little, in her odd, stumbling 
fashion. Sue tried to repeat as nearly as she 
could, the conversation between the officer and 
the overseer. 

Now and then Major Corbin interrupted her 
with a sharp question or stopped her to ask 
over again some point which her halting dia- 
lect made even more difficult to understand, 
but for the most part he let her tell the tale 
in her own way, listening earnestly and watch- 
ing her intently. 

"Where do you live?" he asked suddenly. 

"I lives on Temple's Farm, wid gran'- 
mammy. You calls her 'Aunt Jemimy,' Marse 
Jo." 

"Yes, I know. Is there a tunnel there?" 

"Dars a cave." 

"How do you know?" 

21 



"Kase we-all useter play robbers in it." 
"Could you find it now?" 

"Hi! Yassir, Marse Jo. Hits down by de 
big oak tree, tother side de spring whar dried 
up." 

"Do you know the overseer when you see 
him?" 

"Yassir." Her reply was emphatic on that 
score. 

"Had you ever seen him before yesterday?" 

"Yassir. He come over to our house one 
day long time ago an' tole gran'mammy ef n 
de colored folks didn' stop comin' to dat spring 
for water he was gwineter dry it up. He say 
de water was p'ison, anyway." 

"He did, eh? Well, did you ever see the of- 
ficer before with whom he was talking?" asked 
Major Corbin. 

"Nawsir." 

"Would you know him if you were to see 
him again?" 

Sue shivered and gave a quick look over her 
shoulder. "I reckon ef'n I was dyin' Fd see 
dat man's face," she said solemnly. 

22 



"Sit there on the steps till I come out," ad- 
monished Major Corbin. 

She could hear him repeat in a low tone 
over the telephone the story she had told him. 
And then, at last, "No harm to give it a trial, 
is it, sir? If nothing comes of it nobody would 
ever be the wiser. If you will allow me I 
will arrange the meeting here. It would be in 
the nature of the usual official gathering to 
map out the work for next day. Then you 
will come at three, General? Thank you, sir." 
Major Corbin hung up the receiver and came 
out again to his chair on the porch. 

"What sort of man was that officer?" he 
asked. "I mean, was his hair light or dark?" 

"He got hair de color of dat pine bench," 
Sue explained, "an' his eyes is jes like Gimb- 
licks." 

"H-m. That makes it a little more compli- 
cated," murmured Major Corbin to himself. 
"Three lieutenants in my command with yel- 
low hair, and by jove! I hope the eyes of all 
three may look like gimlets when they meet 
the Boches. However. Come here, child, and 
listen carefully to what I am going to say. 

33 



What is your name? Sulky Sue? Well, Sue, 
you did perfectly right to come and tell me 
about this matter, but you must not tell' any- 
body else, not even your grandmother. Do 
you understand that?" 

"Yassir." 

"I am sure you believe what you have told, 
but I cannot believe it unless I have direct 
proof of it. Do you understand v^hat I mean 
by that?" 

**I tole you de trufe, Mars Jo." 

"Yes, perhaps, but even the truth has to be 
proved sometimes. Nov^ this is v^hat I want 
you to do. You must come here to my head- 
quarters tomorrow afternoon at three o'clock. 
My orderly will show you where you are to 
stand, in an alcove, in the back of my office, 
behind a screen. There will be a hole in the 
screen just about the level of your eyes, and I 
want you to look through that hole at the offi- 
cers who come in and sit with me around the 
table. If you see the gentleman who was 
talking to the overseer you are not to say one 
word. You must wait patiently and quietly 
there till they have all gone. Then you may 

24 



tell me which gentleman it was and which chair 
he sat in at the table." 

"You aint gwineter let him kill me, is you, 
Marse Jo?" burst in Sue, terrified beyond 
measure at the idea of being in the neighbor- 
hood of those **gimblick" eyes behind a pistol 
again. 

"Of course not. Nobody will speak to you 
or hurt you in any way. Are you quite cer- 
tain now that you understand exactly what I 
want you to do? And you will be here exactly 
at three o'clock? Well, cut along now, and 
mind you, not a word to anybody." 

Saturday seemed a hundred years long to 
Sue. She could not do her duties around the 
cabin for looking at the clock for the fatal 
hour of three to arrive. The more she thought 
of it the more she dreaded it, for in spite of 
Marse Jo's reassuring promise, fear clutched 
her by the throat whenever she remembered 
the narrow escape she had had. 

Just suppose Young Marse Jo and his offi- 
cers should leave the room for a minute and 
there would be nobody there but the man with 
the gimlet eyes boring into hers over the top 

25 



of that pistol. With nobody to defend her, 
not even the rough overseer, who might have 
found out by this time that she was not the 
poor deaf and dumb idiot he imagined her to 
be, there wouldn't be a chance for her to escape 
a second time. 

A shudder passed over Sue. She couldn't 
risk it; no, not even for Young Marse Jo, for 
even he had shown himself incredulous of her 
story. He was just trying it as an experiment, 
not because he believed her word. Perhaps he 
would not believe her even if she pointed out 
the man who sought his life and who wanted 
to wipe the whole of Camp Lee off the face 
of the earth. 

In her halting, childish fashion, Sue argued 
the whole matter over and over with herself, 
and the more she argued the better reasons she 
found for staying safely at home with her 
grandmother, who already was beginning to 
cast an anxious eye on her and mutter to her- 
self "dat chile is sho gwineter have a spell." 

Sue felt she would welcome "a. spell," even 
if it meant castor oil and going to bed in a 
room as hot as the fiery furnace in the Bible 

26 



if only in that way she might escape the awful 
doom that seemed to await her. 

Two o'clock came, and half past two, and 
then a quarter of three, and still the turmoil 
in Sue's mind became more and more tempest- 
uous; and then, even as St. Paul on the road 
to Antioch, had suddenly been blinded by the 
great light that flooded his soul, so too, there 
came to Sue in that darkest hour of her life 
a light so gloriously bewildering that for the 
moment she was dazzled by it. 

She must do this thing, not for Marse Jo's 
sake, not because she had promised to do it, 
She must do it because it was for her country, 
because it was p-a-t-r-i-o-t-i-s-m. 

The real meaning of that word came in a 
flash to Sue. It meant doing the thing you 
were afraid to do, because your country asked 
it of you. 

There was not a moment to lose, and Sue 
feared to lose a moment. She did not want to 
be beaten down again by that cowardly fear, 
to shudder and gasp and think up excuses for 
not doing the thing she knew she must do. 
Here was her chance. She knew it and took it 

27 



Without waiting a second, she sped through 
the door, through the gate and down the dusty 
road that led to Camlp Lee. 

Is I — is I too late?" she gasped a few min- 
utes later to the orderly who was watching 
for her from the rear of Major Corbin's head- 
quarters. 

"No, Cinderella, you aint," drawled that 
gentleman. "You got a full minute to get 
your breath in. When you can get it without 
sounding like a buzz saw you can go inside. 
Now come along and get in your observation 
post." 

Sue's heart beat so loud as she screwed her 
small body up in the chair that had been 
placed for her behind the screen she felt sure 
anybody could have heard it who listened, but 
she applied her eyes steadfastly to the little 
peep hole that had been cut for her and held 
on tight with both hands to the sides of the 
chair. 

For a few minutes there was not a sound in 
the house. Sue felt as utterly alone as if she 
were stranded on a desert isle. Then she 
heard a step on the porch and Young Marse 

28 



Jo's voice calling out, "Come in, Dutton. On 
time to the instant, as usual, eh? We'll go 
inside and wait for the others." 

They came into the room, and Marse Jo 
took a seat at the end of the table with his 
back to Sue and pointed to the chair next 
him with one hand while with the other he 
pushed a box of cigars towards his fellow offi- 
cer. "You needn't be afraid of these," he said 
with a smile. "I bought them myself." 

In a few minutes a third officer came in, 
and then a fourth, and Sue's eager glances fell 
upon each with the same disappointment. 
She held her breath when the fifth slipped in 
to his place at the opposite end of the table. 
His hair was the color of the pine bench out- 
side, but his eyes were as blue and merry as 
a child's. He sprang to his feet, as did all the 
rest, when General Blanton, with an apology 
for dropping so informally into the business 
meeting of men whose profession he admired 
so much, and yet knew so little about, asked 
if he might listen to the program for next day's 
work, and took his seat a little apart from the 
others. 

29 



When the seventh and eighth officer pounded 
in with apologies and excuses for being- late 
and Major Corbin looked around at the group 
and said, "Well, gentlemen, if we are all here, 
we may as well come down to business." Sue 
turned cold from head to foot. 

"All here !" and the spy not am,ong them. All 
her agony of mind for nothing; for Marse Jo 
would never believe her now. He had given 
her this one chance to prove that the marvel- 
ous tale she had told him was true and now 
he would be sure it was not true, that she had 
lied to him ; or, if he were kind enough to make 
an excuse for her, that she had fallen asleep 
and dreamed of the terrors she told. 

Sob after sob rose in Sue's throat. It was 
all she could do to stifle them. She knew she 
must sit there till "the business," whatever it 
was, was ended. Could she do it. With an 
immense effort at self control, she gripped the 
edges of her chair and clenched her teeth, 
blinking the tears fiercely from her eyes. 

Perhaps it was because she was praying so 
hard and so desperately that she did not hear 
the soft footfall in the room. 

30 



"'Good afternoon, General. A thousand par- 
dons, Major Corbin. I was detained by some 
very important — er — laboratory work. I hope 
I am not too late." 

That voice. Sue would know it in her grave. 
The same hard, cold, gimlet eyes. He had 
come, after all. Marse Jo was safe. Camp 
Lee was saved, Marse Jesus had heard her 
prayer. In the violent reaction of her emo- 
tion, Sue sprang to her feet. Over went the 
screen. Pointing a finger at the late comer 
she cried in a voice tremulous with relief and 
excitement and fear— ''DAT'S HIM !" 

The young officers turned around in their 
chairs and glanced at Sue amusedly or quizzi- 
cally or indignantly, according to their vary- 
ing power of expression; but the man who 
was still standing looked at the tense, accus- 
ing little figure and muttered hoarsely, "My 
Godr 

At the same moment Major Corbin's order- 
ly, appearing at the door, coughed apologeti- 
cally and said, "Excuse me, sir. Here's the 
man you wanted to see about the milk. It 
was your orders, sir, to let him in the moment 

31 



he came," and stepping aside, the big bulk of 
Heinrich, the overseer, took his place in the 
doorway. 

Slowly the officer turned and faced this new 
terror. 

"Heinrich !" he hissed. "You !" 

"I have told nothing, Herr Lieutenant!" 
broke in Heinrich quickly, and realized that 
his betrayal was instantaneous. 

"I am afraid you have betrayed yourself, 
Lieutenant Schumann." General Blanton rose 
slowly from his seat. "Arrest these men." 
He gave his orders briefly. "Major Corbin, 
have Lieutenant Schumann's quarters searched 
at once. There is no liberty and no mercy 
for a spy in Camp Lee. As for that child — " 
But Sue was really deaf and dumb now for 
she had fainted for the first and only time in 
her life. 



It was the morning of Thanksgivings Day. 
Sue, who, with the resiliency of youth had re- 
covered from the "spell" her grandmother had 
predicted, was sweeping the little pathway that 

32 



led up to the cabin, and on the doorstep watch- 
ing her every movement, sat her grandmother. 

Aunt Jemimy had done some hard thinking 
since the afternoon Marse Jo had brought Sue 
home in his own car, Hfted her out as care- 
fully as if she had been his own kith and kin 
and put her into her grandmother's arms. 
"Put this child to bed. Auntie," he had said, 
and give her anything in the world she wants, 
for she is a regular little heroine, and but for 
her — well, there'd be precious few of us left 
at Camp Lee to see Thanksgivings Day." 

And then, "jes like ole times, when his pa 
was a li'l boy," as Aunt Jemimy put it to her- 
self, he had sat down on the doorstep and 
told the proudest grandmother in the world 
what Sulky Sue had done to save the soldiers. 

Sue's story had been proven true in every 
detail. The tubes of deadly bacilli had been 
found skilfully concealed in Lieutenant Schu- 
mann's comifort kit, while a careful search of 
the "cave" had brought to light the clever ar- 
rangement of powder and time fuse which was 
to work such ghastly devastation in Camp 
Lee. 

33 



And so Aunt Jemimy sat glorified in her 
character as the grandmother of the heroine 
who was sweeping the pathway, when sud- 
denly the heroine called out, *'Sojers comin' !" 
threw down her broom and started at break- 
neck speed down the path. 

"You Sulky Sue ! You Soo-oo ! roared Aunt 
Jemimy after her. ''Come back here dis min- 
ute, ef n you don't I'll give you another dose o' 
castor ile. Reg'lar heroines got no business 
runnin' noway," she added as Sue paused in 
her flight. 'Taint fittin'." 

The tramp, tramp, tramp camje closer. Aunt 
Jemimy rose from her seat to watch the men 
go by. Sue had her broom over her shoulder 
in a minute and was marching too. 

But the "sojers" did not go by. Instead, 
they turned into the crossroad, and then, to 
the huge amazement and delight of Sue, 
marched "column two, left face!" through 
Aunt Jemimy's little gate, up the well-swept 
pathway to a "halt !" in front of the door. 

The sight of Marse Jo as commanding ofifi- 
cer brought reassurance. As he stepped for- 

34 



ward one of his men handed him a package. 
It was plain to everybody that he was going 
to make a speech. 

He cleared his throat. "Boys," he said, "a 
few days ago that little girl standing there 
overheard the plot to destroy Camp Lee, and 
at the risk of her life not only came and told 
me about it, but came back the second time 
to point out the dastardly spy who was work- 
ing to destroy us. I consider it the bravest 
deed I have ever known. Now, then, Sue, 
these men of the medical department of Camp 
Lee are offering you their appreciation in the 
shape of this packet of Liberty Bonds — see, a 
big bundle of them, big enough to last you a 
lifetime, to send you to school and provide for 
your comfort and the comfort of this good old 
grandmother of yours as long as she lives and 
you live. Here they are. Take care of them. 
They are to commemorate our gratitude to 
you. And now, boys, three rousing cheers for 
Sulky Sue. We've adopted her as the mascot 
of our Camp and weVe all got to look out 
for her. "Hip, hip, hurray!" 

35 



The cheers were given with a will and a 
tiger in which Sue joined in spite of her grand- 
mother's hasty admonition, "Stop dat holl'erin' 
for yo'sef, Sue." 

The men fell in line, swung to the right, 
marching briskly in the November sunshine. 
The tramp, tramp, tramp of their feet could be 
heard long after tiiey passed out of sight. Sue 
drew a long sigh of perfect happiness. ''Gran*- 
mammy," she said, *'you sho kin trus' de 
A'mighty to look after de Virginians eve'y 
time." 



36 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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